


Look but don't touch

by valdomarx (cptxrogers)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Masturbation, Slut Jaskier | Dandelion, Smut, Voyeurism, i apologise for nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/pseuds/valdomarx
Summary: Five times Geralt watched Jaskier get off and one time he helped out.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 25
Kudos: 1020





	Look but don't touch

**Author's Note:**

> Translation into Russian available [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9387776). Thank you JaneBanks!

Geralt just wants to sleep, but he can’t because there’s a rhythmic _slap-slap-slap_ sound carrying over from Jaskier’s side of the fire, complete with rustling movements within his bedroll. The night is dark, but not dark enough to hide what Jaskier is doing. Geralt grits his teeth.

“Must you do that now?” he snaps.

The slapping sound stops. Jaskier pulls a face at him. “I’m a man, Geralt, with a man’s needs! It’s been weeks since either of us had any company.”

That’s true enough. And Melitele knows Jaskier gets sour when he’s feeling underappreciated. “Fine, if you really can’t wait until you have some privacy. Get on with it then.”

The sound starts up again. “I could take care of it while you’re off hunting monsters, I suppose, but you always tell me how important it is I stay alert -”

“Must you _talk to me_ while you’re doing that?”

“You’re the one that told me to get on with it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt pins his hands to his sides, stares at the sky, and does his best to ignore what’s going on on the other side of the fire. That doesn’t stop the soft sigh Jaskier makes when he comes being burned into his memory.

–

Jaskier has caught the attention of the pretty, buxom barmaid, and the two of them are making a spectacle of themselves in the corridor of the tavern. Geralt keeps one eye on them, because you never know when this sort of situation could go bad.

Jaskier gets on his knees and lifts her voluminous skirts, burying himself under them. Judging by her moans, she’s enjoying herself tremendously. Geralt averts his eyes and lets them get on with it.

With his task complete, Jaskier emerges from beneath her skirts and wipes his wet chin on the back of his sleeve. Judging by the bulge in the front of his trousers, he’s enjoyed himself plenty as well.

That’s when the barmaid’s brother shows up, thundering and furious, and he and Jaskier have to take off at a run while the barmaid holds her brother back and protests her (dubious) virtue. Geralt enjoys a small, mean moment of satisfaction at how uncomfortable running must be for Jaskier right now.

–

Tonight’s job is bodyguarding for Jaskier as he works his charms on some local lordling at a banquet, one which was getting wild even before the sun went down. Now there are fights breaking out every other moment and couples in every corner, with the rest of the assembled nobles guzzling wine at an alarming rate.

Geralt hates it. Hates this place, hates these people. He seeks out Jaskier, hoping they can make a quiet exit, but when he spots him across the room he’s obviously busy.

Jaskier is pushed up against a wall and the lordling is on his knees in front of him, unfastening his trousers while Jaskier cards a hand through his hair. Geralt can’t tear his gaze away as the man leans in and swallows Jaskier down with greedy enthusiasm.

Jaskier throws his head back, resting it against the wall, then turns and looks right at Geralt. Looks right into his eyes, with a filthy smirk plastered over his face.

It’s a challenge, a dare of some kind, and just because Geralt doesn’t exactly understand it doesn’t mean he’s going to back down. He stares back at Jaskier, watches his mouth fall open in a little _o_ of pleasure, sees the way his back arches as he thrusts into the lordling’s mouth.

He can smell Jaskier’s arousal from here, sharp and spicy, and he can smell the moment that Jaskier lets go and comes down the man’s throat.

He keeps his eyes fixed on Geralt the entire time.

–

“Damn it, Geralt, haven’t you heard of knocking?”

Jaskier is currently being bent in half by a burly man with strong arms, who is balls deep inside him and is apparently attempting to fuck him through the bed frame.

“It’s my room too,” Geralt protests. “Why would I knock?”

“Oh, typical, never considering anyone’s needs by your own -”

“If you could think with your head instead of your cock for once -”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” the burly man cuts into their bickering. “Could you two take this up at a later time? We’re in the middle of something here.”

Geralt scowls. Fine. Jaskier can have the damned room for the night. He stomps out, feeling most put upon and angry to a degree he knows to be unreasonable.

–

They’ve got a selkiemore to hunt, so Geralt rises early and heads to the stables to collect Roach. He finds Jaskier already there, occupied with the innkeeper’s daughter. The sound of giggles and Jaskier’s voice whispering sweet filth carries through the stalls, and Geralt is not in the mood.

“Jaskier!” he calls. “Get out here, it’s time to go.”

“Give me -” There’s the sound of panting. “- just a minute.”

Geralt huffs, unimpressed. “Hurry up,” he growls through the stall door. “We haven’t got all day. _Come on_ , Jaskier.”

Jaskier groans, deep and throaty and satisfied. The sound makes Geralt’s scalp tingle.

He emerges a couple of minutes later, adjusting his rumpled clothing and blowing kisses to the girl. “Right, now that’s sorted, shall we be on our way?”

Geralt grunts and strides off, trusting that Jaskier will follow.

–

Geralt flexes his tense shoulders and lets the hot steam roll over him, relaxing his body inch by inch. He sits and watches Jaskier stretch, cat-like, as he lies naked on the bench opposite.

Geralt is not a person who requires luxuries. But he does have his weaknesses, and baths are one of them. Jaskier has figured this out and insisted they stopped at the town’s bathhouse before they leave for the wilderness tomorrow. Geralt couldn’t bring himself to object.

The steam bath is empty except the two of them, the gentle hiss of the water on the hot stones filling the room.

Under the cover of the steam, Geralt lets himself appreciate the view: Jaskier’s long legs, his elegant neck, the soft hair that covers his chest and leads tantalisingly downward. The way the corner of his mouth pulls up into a lazy smile. His eyes are closed, an expression of hedonistic bliss on his face.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

Geralt bristles. Jaskier’s eyes are still closed, how could he have known?

“Don’t act so shocked,” Jaskier says smugly. “I know you. You like looking at me, but you don’t like me noticing you do it.”

He’s right, damn him. Geralt hums, feeling guilty and stupid.

“No need to be like that.” Jaskier opens his eyes, rolls onto his side to face Geralt. “I like it when you watch me.”

There’s an intensity in his gaze which is hotter than the rising steam.

Geralt watches, transfixed, as Jaskier’s hand trails down his chest. “I like it when you watch me perform, even if you insult my singing.” His hand skates over his stomach. “I like it that you look out for me whenever there’s danger, though you complain about having to do it.” His hand moves lower still, teasing over his cock. “And I especially like it when you watch me fuck.”

Heat flushes across Geralt’s skin and he feels light headed. His grip tightens on the edge of the wooden bench.

Jaskier notes it and smirks. “You can watch me as much as you want,” he says, gripping his cock in his hand and stroking himself to hardness.

A noise slips out of Geralt’s mouth, a needy whine that he clamps down on immediately. Jaskier strokes faster, his eyes flicking over Geralt’s face, his chest, his cock heavy between his legs.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle about my intentions. I thought maybe watching was all you were interested in.” He fixes Geralt with a heavy gaze, hand still working himself. “Was I wrong?”

Geralt is across the room and on his knees in front of Jaskier before he knows what he’s doing. “Can I -” He licks his lips, half mad with the need for it. “Can I help you with that?”

Jaskier smiles, bright and gleaming. “Geralt, darling. I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is thoroughly self-indulgent and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> It's also posted on [tumblr](https://valdomarx.tumblr.com/post/612781406229299200/5-times-geralt-watched-jaskier-get-off-and-one).


End file.
